


The Distillery

by firestar2024



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, F/F, Kara is a muckraker, Lena is a bootlegger, Lena's also the leader of a huge gang, Prohibition, SuperCorp, kara is human, supercorp will rise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firestar2024/pseuds/firestar2024
Summary: What happens tenacious muckraker Kara Danvers catches the eye of the bootlegging empress Lena Luthor in a tavern one day? Kara's entire world begins to unravel just as Lena's motives are unraveled. With twists and turns the duo must navigate through the harsh reality of 1920s America and find their place in the world that had promised much, only to disappoint.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! It's been a while, but I've been dealing with a lot of writer's block! I hope you really enjoy this story, because I'm really fond of this idea!

It was in this era of crime and corruption that Kara Danvers was finding her voice. As a child, she’d focused on fitting in and being quiet amongst the rest of her peers as to hide her otherworldliness, but in the age of booming businesses and rocketing stock values, there was bound to be some truth that needed uncovering. She, Kara Danvers, took it upon herself to seek justice for those exploited by these opportunistic corporations in any means possible, and currently, that meant being the only female reporter for the New York Tribune. For her, it was all about getting the truth out there. 

The irony of legality and truth came into her mind as she sat in a secret tavern, waiting for the bartender to provide her with some drinks. She respected laws, and she did respect President Woodrow Wilson, but the new 18th Amendment still made absolutely no sense. Here she sat in an illegal bar, disobeying the government at night while she begged the government for changes during the day. Placing her elbows upon the bar counter and resting her head upon her hands, she stared ahead at the rows of whiskey and beer on the walls.

“Long day?” asked the bartender, placing a large glass mug in front of her and filling it with beer. “You look like you need ten of these.”

“Something like that,” sighed Kara, sliding a five dollar bill towards the bartender.

Kara knew how lucky she was to be on the New York Tribune, especially as a woman. But some days, like today, she simply wished for her boss  _ not _ to yell at her and throw a half-eaten Danish at her head. Over the past decade, many laws had been put into place by Wilson, and social evils in industries had diminished greatly or were being hidden better. Today, she’d walked into Snapper Carr’s office empty handed, and had declared that there was simply nothing to report.

“Nothing to report!” he yelled. “I bet my Danish that there is  _ something _ to report! There is always truth to be told! Now go out there and find it, Danvers!”

“But-but-”

“Go!”

Kara pushed the memory from her mind and took a large swig of beer. It bubbled in her mouth, the scent of fermented wheat rising up to her nose. She’d never liked alcohol much, but tonight, it seemed a worthy contestant to distract her from her day. _At least_ _you’re not stress baking_ , Alex would tease.

_ Did it really count as stress baking if most of her food ended up in the trash looking like charcoal? _

“Geez, that was quick,” commented the bartender, getting ready to pour another.

“This one will be on the house,” said a woman, sliding into the seat next to Kara.

“Of course,” said the bartender, quickly filling the mug once more while preparing a shot glass with the house special - toffee whiskey.

The woman downed the whiskey with impressive speed, even quicker than Kara had downed her beer. Her face crumpled in disappointment.

“Blech,” said the woman. “Not the best batch.”

Kara sipped her beer silently. 

“So, what brings you to Lucky Luthor’s tonight?” asked the woman. Kara could see the woman’s glimmering green eyes through the corner of her vision, beaming like little gemstones in an ivory vase.

“Just…work, you know?” sighed Kara, turning to face her benefactor, whose arm was now propping up her face from the counter. “I’ve just got this boss, and urgh!”

“Ooh, I can see that crinkle,” smirked the woman, her gaze drifting to Kara’s eyebrows. “I can understand. It’s not always easy, especially being a woman in this society. What do you do?”

“I can’t tell whether my boss is a misogynist or just an ass,” said Kara, raising her glasses a little. “I’m a reporter for the New York Tribune.”

The friendly smile from the woman’s face slowly fell, giving rise to a bitter, harsher one. Her jaw tightened, her face grew smaller, and her gaze grew fiercer. “A muckraker, I figure,” she spat. “What are you doing in a bar? Trying to rat out some people who simply want to  _ relax _ ?”

“No!” responded Kara, fiddling with her glasses. “I-it’s not like that!”

“I know the likes of you,” seethed the woman, “wanting to get close to someone powerful for their own benefit. Telling me what I want to hear so that you’ll find some opportunity to stab me in the back. I’ve seen it all.”

“I’m just tired, okay? This morning, I had a flaky pastry thrown at my face, had another lecture from my boss, had my notebook stolen temporarily, had rotten meat delivered to my house, and frankly, I just wanted to unwind,” said Kara, raising her mug to her mouth once more. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” said the woman, her gaze softening a little. “Sorry, I’ve just recently gotten out of a really difficult business partnership. My “partner” turned out to be this backstabbing bitch who only wanted to see my research in order to duplicate it and patent it. I’m having some trust issues.”

“That’s terrible,” said Kara. “But, um, who are you?”

The woman’s posture stiffened and her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Who am  _ I _ ? Are you meaning to tell me that a reporter the New York Tribune doesn’t recognize me?”

“Hey, I’m a muckraker, not a general reporter.” defended Kara, raising both her hands as if to surrender. “I don’t poke around in the alcohol businesses.”

“Lena Luthor. Business tycoon,” said the woman, extending a hand forth. “And your name?”

“Kara Danvers. Reporter. But, of course, I already told you that, Ms. Luthor.”

“Please, call me Lena, Ms. Danvers.”

“Well, if I’m going to be calling you Lena…”

“Kara it is,” smiled Lena, a small glint appearing in the corner of her eye. “My apologies for the...hostile welcome.”

“It’s really okay. I can understand where you’re coming from,” said Kara, returning the smile. “I noticed that you mentioned that my pint was on the house. Do you own this tavern?”

“Yes,” admitted Lena, wringing her wrists a little. “I’m a bootlegger.”

“Well, I do appreciate the truth,” said Kara. “Especially since I feel that we’ll have quite the friendship in the future.”

“I do hope so, Ms. Danvers.”

“I’ll be sure to look out for you, Lena Luthor,” said Kara, getting up from her seat.

“Same goes for you, Kara Danvers.”

As Kara exited the building, she began to reflect upon this...encounter with Lena Luthor. There was something quite peculiar about her that Kara couldn’t help but notice. Here was this woman, supposedly a business tycoon, who spoke in such sophisticated language, yet displayed signs of not being quite so... _ polished. _ Kara wasn’t sure if it was her nervous thumb twiddling or her wrist wringing, but Kara could tell that there was something that bothered Lena when she talked about herself. Even if Lena had wanted to hide it, Kara was easily able to see how the woman’s hands trembled as she introduced herself, and how her entire body shook as she angrily accused Kara of trying to dig something up. 

 

* * *

 

For the second day in a row, Kara found herself ducking as a half-eaten Danish flew by her head.

“Danvers! I told you never to show your face in here until you had an article in your hand! I don’t see an article!” yelled Snapper Carr, shaking his head. “I knew we shouldn’t have hired a woman.”

“Mr. Carr...I assure you that I’ve been looking!” whimpered Kara, backing away slowly. “It’s just...been difficult…”

“Difficult?” snorted Carr. “Of course it’s difficult! Reporting isn’t for simple pansies! You need to get into the dirt and dig something up! Kids these days! You don’t understand getting your hands dirty for anything…”

The sound of clicking heels resounded through the hall. Whispers echoed throughout the hall, with reporters ducking behind their desks while photographers tried to sneak pictures. The door to Snapper Carr’s office opened to reveal none other than Lena Luthor. Even Snapper seemed to shrink as the woman’s elegant figure filled the room with mystery.

“Lena!” exclaimed Kara. “What are you doing here?”

“I was recently invited to a...party of sorts,” explained Lena, her eyes sparkling at Kara. “And I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one?”

“B-be your p-plus one?” stammered Kara.

“Yes. It’s a black tie event, and in the case that you don’t have an appropriate dress, I do have something you could wear.”

“Why, I’d absolutely love to!”

“Great, I’ll see you then! If you’d like, I’ll swing by your place,” said Lena, giving a wide smile and turning to leave. “Speaking of which, where do you live?”

“I, um,” said Kara, fixing her glasses, “I live on the rent controlled side of town - do you know Marty’s?”

“The grocer?”

“Yep! I live in the room above his store.”

Kara wasn’t really embarrassed by her economic status, but there was a certain irony to her going to a party - likely filled with other business tycoons and expensive (and illegal) champagne that could pay for an entire year’s worth of rent - while she lived in a building that was a simple step above a tenement. She literally lived across the street from a building that used to be jam packed with dozens of poor immigrants, unable to afford anything other than less than 5 square feet of living space. Besides, she wasn’t sure how she would feel if lived in an apartment that was a little bit more luxurious than the one she was currently living in. Sure, it might be nice to have better plumbing and to live in a safer area, but as a muckraker, her moral compass pointed in the direction of injustice. She couldn’t bear to live in luxury while she wrote about and tried to seek reform for those who had been exploited by the system.

Lena turned to leave once more, the click of her heels resounding through the halls. For a moment, the entire office was silent.

“You’re friends with Lena Luthor?” snapped Carr. “And you tell me there’s nothing to report!”

“Well, perhaps ‘friends’ would be an overstatement,” said Kara. “Friendly acquaintances would be more accurate.”

“Bah, Danvers!” spat Carr. “Everyone in the office saw you agree to be Luthor’s plus one to her ‘party’! Come on, Danvers, go to the damn party and write something!”

Kara’s mouth opened to retort but nothing came out, leaving her flopping her mouth like a fish out of water. Fixing her glasses once more, she pulled her notebook to her chest and stepped out of Carr’s office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait. I know it's still kind of short, but I'm figuring out where I want to go with this story. I have a general direction, but I really want to focus on their characterization and the development of their relationship.

It had taken Kara years of work to get to the New York Tribune. Not only had she had to fight merely to get through school - through all the misogynistic teachers and arrogant boys - but at Wellesley, she’d been up against the brightest women she’d ever met. But none of that had really prepared her to work under Lucas “Snapper” Carr. He was a brilliant journalist - she’d admit that much - but he was simply so unpredictable. In high school, all she’d had to do was stay silent. In college, she’d had to weave through the cutthroat women, but at least they’d given her respect. With Carr, she could write an article and have him reject it for lacking detail, only to have the more detailed article rejected for simply being boring and convoluted.

Of all the women she’d ever met, Lena Luthor was for sure one of the more complex ones. From all her badly hidden trembling and nervousness, Kara could tell that there was something in Lena’s past that was troubling her and had shaped the way she’d become, yet there was something about Lena that simply let Kara  _ trust _ her. At Wellesley, she’d grown to learn that the most reassuring and the most assertive women - although brilliant and clever - were often the least trustworthy. 

So Carr demanding that she write about Lena’s party while being her plus one seemed awfully twisted. Here was this powerful woman, offering to Kara a friendship and essentially asking her to trust her, while there was Kara’s turbulent boss implying that she should use the budding friendship for the sake of the Tribune. Kara had promised herself that wouldn’t become a dishonest, manipulative woman, the likes of which she’d seen at Wellesley. Of course, this relationship could further her career, and although Kara was determined to become one of the top reporters in the United States, she also didn’t want to make an enemy out of the powerful Lena Luthor, nor did she want to stamp out the roots of a strong alliance.

_ It’s those damn eyes...those damn green eyes... _ Lena’s eyes were truly alluring. Perhaps these gems were what had spoken to Kara, telling her that Lena was to be trusted. There wasn’t a single glitch within them, no cloudiness overcast her bright irises…

She paced around her apartment, glancing at the hands of the clock nervously as she waited for Lena. Sure, she’d had a few days to mentally prepare herself for it, but in her defense...she wasn’t much of a “party gal.” Her roommates had often come home late at night, reeking of cheap beer and foot sweat while Kara had stayed up, trying to find the perfect words for her essays. They’d invited her out at first, but after three rejections, they hadn’t bothered with it anymore.

A knock on the door drew her out from her college memories. 

“Kara? Kara Danvers?” 

“Coming!” shouted Kara, dashing towards the door.

Yanking it open, she came face to face with a very cleverly dressed Lena Luthor. Of course, being slightly shorter than Kara, Lena’s heels brought her to Kara’s eye level exactly, which simply reminded Kara that she had yet to find proper attire.

“You look great!” exclaimed Kara, glancing over at Lena’s fresh pressed suit. The perfect seams and creases brought out Lena’s powerful energy, giving her a strong, somewhat masculine presence, yet the outfit hugged her body and accentuated her femininity. The black fedora atop her head added a garnish that truly brought the entire piece together. She was, in Kara’s mind, a walking work of art.

“And I would say the same for you, but…”

“But I don’t have a dress.”

“Which is why I brought one for you,” said Lena, extending a wire coat hanger, sheathed in a dry cleaning bag. “Take a look.”

Gently pulling the plastic bag off of the hanger, Kara slowly unveiled a sleek and sparkling black dress. It looked not only elegant, but also comfortable and flexible. 

“Try it on,” said Lena. “We’ve got some time.”

Kara dashed into her room and hurriedly slipped into the dress. She glanced at her full-body mirror on her wall, shocked at just how well it fit. There was no part of her body that felt too pinched or too airy; it wasn’t revealing, yet it wouldn’t label Kara as a prude. Lena had definitely made a smart choice with the material, as it seemed to stretch to whatever size deemed necessary.

“What do you think?” asked Kara, stepping into the living room.

Lena glanced up at her from her notepad, a pen in her mouth. As her eyes glanced over Kara, her jaw dropped slightly, causing the pen to fall onto the floor. 

“You look... _ absolutely stunning _ ,” said Lena, scrambling to get the pen. “It fits even better than I thought it would.”

“Really?” asked Kara, straightening out the bottom of the dress. “Well, um, h-how much do I owe you?”

Lena waved her hand. “Consider it a gift.”

“B-but…”

“I invited you to this party on quite a short notice. Trust me, this is the least I could do for you.”

“Well, I can at least wear my own shoes,” said Kara, steadying herself against the door as she slipped her black heels on.

Lena offered her an arm. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go,” said Kara, taking Lena’s arm.

 

* * *

 

The party - or  _ gala _ , as Lena insisted - was exactly what Kara had imagined. Well,  _ almost _ exactly. Tables were set with cream colored tablecloths, lacy doilies, shimmering silverware, and professionally folded napkins. Sparkling golden champagne fizzed in tall glasses all around the pair as they made their way into the crowd. From a long distance, it would look like any ordinary party, but the closer Kara got to the people, the less polished it seemed.

“Aight matey, yer ain’t gotta be such a prick!” shouted a large tattooed man, clad in a tight fitting suit, wrapping his thick arm around a lanky man’s neck. The poor twig of a man crumpled underneath the man’s grasp, his champagne spilling all over the floor.

“Come on, ignore them,” whispered Lena, dragging Kara from the scene.

“But...the man! We have to help him!” 

“He’ll be alright, Kara.”

“I..I have to help him!”

Kara dashed towards the larger man. 

“Let him go!” shouted Kara. “You don’t have to be such a bully!”

“Such a bully, eh? What’re yer, twelve?” laughed the man. “This swine owes me and my crew o’er five hunnid dollas and I’m the bully?”

“He’s clearly not able to defend himself,” said Kara. “If you let him explain…”

The man snorted. “If he needs a woman to defend himself, then clearly…” He loosened his iron grip on the man, whose blood suddenly rushed back into his head. Gasping for air, he fell to the ground. “Hurry up and get me my money.”

Kara’s eyed widened and fury burst through her veins. “I’m done with you, you misogynistic fucker,” she gritted, spinning around and heading back for Lena. 

“What?” asked Kara, looking at Lena’s contorted face. “Someone had to help him.”

“I’m simply shocked. You literally called the leader of one of the most notorious gangs around town a fucker.”

“A  _ misogynistic _ fucker. Look, I’m sick of men thinking that they can simply push around women and talk about us as though we’re simply objects for their pleasure and comfort. I don’t need an education from Wellesley to feel that way.”

“Impressive.”

The lanky man, whose blood had finally returned to his head, stumbled between the two of them. Placing his hands on Kara’s shoulders, he looked into her eyes. “Thank you so much,” he huffed. “I was about to pass out.”

“Of course.”

“Who are you?”

“Kara Danvers. Reporter for the New York-”

“Reporter for me. She reports sales. For me. For, business,” interrupted Lena. “And who may you be?”

The now confused man retracted his hands from Kara’s shoulders, his eyes widening at Lena. “Uh...Winn Schott. Technology help for...J’onn J’onzz.”

“You got yourself in a bit of trouble, there, Schott,” said Lena. “Do you need your debt settled.”

“No. Well, yes, but I can’t simply accept any help,” said Winn. “If-if that’s what you’re offering, at least.”

“I have plenty to spare, at least for tonight,” whispered Lena, palming a few hundred dollars into Winn’s hand. 

“T-thank you,” stammered Winn, running towards the large man. 

“What’d you do that for?” asked Kara.

“You have your way of helping people. I have mine.”

“I-i guess. By the way, um, what kind of...party is this?”

“The  _ gala _ is for...business purposes. I told you. I’m a bootlegger. This is how I make my connections.”

“Is that why you gave Winn,” asked Kara, pointing towards the skinny man, “the money?”

“Well, yes and no. It is beneficial for me to make friends across departments, and J’onn J’onzz is a name that’s been rising in the streets. However, the poor lad seemed to be in a lot of trouble. Scottie Starling only chokes people once they pass the six month deadline. From the way your new friend was gasping, I’m guessing he’s overdue by at least four months.”

Kara nodded. She herself was more of an active “hero,” jumping into the action in order to cause change. But Lena was different. Lena quietly - and more logically - solved issues. It wasn’t that she didn’t approve...but this method was so different from what she was used to seeing.

“Come on, Kara. We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” said Lena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr @ shy-luthor

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @shy-luthor! Please leave constructive criticism and feedback!


End file.
